"Oh, no!" she gasped. "She didn't... You... weren't."I put my hand on her forearm. "I almost was," I said. "That guy on thebeach was just seconds away from sticking his... his thing... intoBecky... into me. And he wasn't wearing a condom either."Sloane gasped a second time. "Oh, Mr. Carter, I'm so sorry," she said.Once more we sat side by side in silence for a long moment."How long is the spell supposed to last?" I asked quietly.Sloane shook her head. "I don't know. Becky didn't tell me. I don'tthink that she thought the spell would work. I know I didn't."I said, "But she gave you a code just in case."She nodded.Then we looked at each other and, God help me, I giggled. "I wouldn'thave believed it either," I said. "But it did work."Sloane smiled. "Yes, it did. I'm really sorry about this, Mr. Carter."She got up and moved across to her bed."It's not your fault, Sloane," I said. "You need sleep and I need somethinking time. And I guess that you'd better call me Becky instead ofMr.. .. the perfect rifle for eliminating rabid squirrels and their ilk. He had that killer look.Arthur would jerk Mitch's hand loose from his sleeve saying, "Not now, I'll tell you when, Mitch," and go back to admiring the huge pedestal mounted pre-war chrome and brass Zeiss Battleship Spotting Binoculars with the filters and who knows what all mounted to the heavy housing. He gave me that 'Pretty Please, with Sugar on it' look that just begs for a look.So, with my bobcat kit balanced on my fourteen year old shoulder, and half an eye watching Mitch and his itchy trigger finger, half an eye watching Jeannie running her jaws, half an eye paying close attention to the interesting movement of the inside of Troop Leader Georgeanne's two sizes too small grey/green button straining Girl-scout blouse and half an eye twinkling at my darling Hjálmtýsdóttir; she of the bright blue eyes and Icelandic blonde hair; my former candy-striper from Ludington so rudely kidnapped into durance vile working for.
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